


A Thing With Feathers

by Deviation



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Light Angst, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, Team as Family, its totally sef gratuitous fluff, more fluff than you can shake a bunny at
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-07-28 12:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7639798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deviation/pseuds/Deviation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"“Never took you for an animal lover,” McCree drawls. Hanzo is immediately annoyed but stamps down on the instinct to snap back. </p><p>“The other nestlings were dead,” Hanzo simply states, “Likely their mother either abandoned the nest or perished herself,” He gestures towards the bread under McCree’s arm and he hands it over. Hanzo opens it with one hand, the other cradling Little Bird close to his chest. </p><p>“You seem more the sort to leave it there to die,” McCree remarks. "</p><p>Or</p><p>Hanzo Shimada saves a bird, finds a family, and falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope is a thing with feathers that perches in the soul

He doesn’t belong here, amongst these would-be heroes. Hanzo knows this. He doesn’t belong anywhere after what he did. And yet, here he is, three months in and still acting like he can somehow make a difference. They don’t trust him, he knows. With the odd exception of his brother, the others on this base are wary of him at best and hostile at worst. As it should be. He is not a person one spends time getting to know, after all.

 

Sometimes Genji will make pointed conversation with him in front of others, likely trying to demonstrate that he’s not a rabid animal. In some ways, Hanzo appreciates the effort made. The fact that his brother is willing to speak to him at all is a miracle to him most days. In others, Hanzo resents it: he is thirty-eight years old, he does not need his younger brother to hold his hand through social interactions.

 

Now, Hanzo broods atop one of the taller buildings at Watchpoint, gazing out into the sunset. Well, Genji would call it brooding, Hanzo would then glare and call him an idiot. Genji would then laugh and dodge and Hanzo made to swipe him upside the head and they would fall into a chase of sorts ending in Hanzo holding Genji down and...

 

Well. That wouldn’t happen. Not anymore. Years ago, yes, that’s what would happen. But they are both different people now. Hanzo breathes slowly and evenly through his nose, and resists the urge to huff or sigh like a child.

 

There’s no denying it: he’s definitely brooding.

 

Slightly disgusted with himself for falling back on such childish habits, Hanzo briskly stands up, and turns to enter the door to the roof when something small and mobile catches the corner of his eye. As he approaches, small distressed peeps emerge from the writhing pink thing on the ground, and an involuntary smile creeps up on Hanzo’s face. A baby bird has fallen from it’s nest. He squats down to observe it closer, trying to determine whether it needs help getting back to its nest or not. Small, pink, featherless, and with eyes barely open, the bird definitely will need a bit of help. Hanzo scoops the small bird into his hands, gently cupping it so it doesn’t fall. He then places it in one of his pouches, being careful not to jostle it too much as he scales the building to the next level to begin looking for the nest, as it couldn’t have been too far up.

  

The familiar burn of climbing clears his mind of darker thoughts and allows for more peaceful ones to enter: memories of picking up many fallen birds and replacing them in their nests as a child or spiriting away young lost and sick animals until they were well again. He’d always had a weak spot for them. Not that his father would have allowed such weakness had he known, so the animals, and Hanzo’s care for them, was kept secret. The only one he ever kept, his own secret rebellion to contrast Genji’s green hair and spirited whimsies. Hanzo climbs, spotting the nest and makes his way towards it. His spirits fall as he gazes inside, where two more baby birds lie dead in the nest. Their mother must have died, or otherwise abandoned her nest.

 

Feeling much the child this day, Hanzo unconsciously moves one hand to the pouch the baby bird resides in. The bird is likely half starved, with the state the other two had been in. Perhaps not long for this world. But perhaps, with a little luck…No, it’s best not to get one’s hopes up. Feed it, give it a warm place to stay, and let it die comfortably. That’s all anyone can ask for, and all Hanzo should hope to be able to provide this for the young bird. Grim faced, Hanzo climbs down the wall once more and enters the building, making a list of the things he’ll need to give comfort to the bird. A shoe-box, some cotton, is this a bird that would prefer seeds or insects? Some wet pieces of bread to fend of dehydration and put off the hunger for a bit until he could figure it out. Hanzo sticks to little used hallways on his way back to his room, trying to make himself scarce as he quickly makes his way to his destination. Luck is, of course, seldom on Hanzo’s side.

 

As he turns the corner, Hanzo walks straight into McCree, slightly damp and disheveled from a shower, judging by the wet hair.

 

“My apologies,” offers Hanzo.

 

“S’not a problem. Where’re you off to in such a hurry?” McCree asks, tone almost falsely light. Understandably, he is suspicious as, after all, Genji is one of his close friends. He is likely to find all of Hanzo’s actions suspicious.

 

Praying to end this conversation before Little Bird makes another peep, Hanzo replies, “To my room, I wish to meditate.” He sidesteps McCree then, hoping to end the conversation quickly.

 

McCree, of course, has impeccably bad timing (why does he say it’s high noon all the time? It’s 3 PM) and says, “Now hold up there, pardner, we’ve been missing you at dinner these past few nights and- what’s that noise?”

 

That noise, being, of course, the gentle distressed peeping of Little Bird. McCree looks at Hanzo, then at Hanzo’s belt, Hanzo looks McCree straight in the eye, his ears a little pink. McCree looks back at Hanzo, then to his belt again. Little Bird peeps some more. It’s the only noise in the hallway. McCree smiles slowly, like the cat who caught the canary, his posture changing to a wide stance as he gets ready to tease Hanzo, “You got a little friend there we should know about, Hanzo?”

 

Hanzo, refusing to be cowed into submission, he stares straight ahead and says in a rather bold faced lie, “No.” Little Bird continues peeping.

 

“What’re you doing with a little bird anyway? Won't the mama smell you on it or somethin’?”

 

“Birds do not have an acute sense of smell, replacing a fallen bird to its nest would not scare its mother away.”

 

“So you’ve done this before.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. 

 

More peeping.

 

McCree chuckles, his demeanor friendly and open and utterly foreign to Hanzo, who is more used to aloofness coming from the cowboy. He isn’t sure how to handle this situation. Luckily, he doesn’t have to, as McCree ‘graciously’ moves out of the way, theatrically taking off his hat and throwing out his arm in a lazy sort of half bow. Hanzo is not impressed, but he takes the opportunity to swiftly leave McCree behind. Luckily, the rest of the walk to his room goes by with no similar encounters. As he shuts the door behind him, Hanzo removes Little Bird from his pouch and tenderly prods at them, searching for any obvious breaks they might have sustained from the fall. Little Bird is pink and featherless, with beady black eyes that are half open as they squirm on Hanzo’s hand while peeping loudly.

 

His room is sparse, even after all these months of living at Watchpoint. There’s simply been no need to settle down when its unlikely that he’ll be here for long. It’s small and cramped but having a room to himself is a luxury in itself, one afforded due to their small numbers. It’s more luxury than Hanzo has had in years. 

 

Hanzo is, of course, met with several dilemmas that come with caring for a nestling. The first being that Hanzo has no box to put Little Bird in. He searches his room, trying to find something suitable, eventually settling on one of the drawers. He empties it out first, hesitates, then layers the bottom with his spare Gi (his only spare Gi). He is then is faced with the next problem: obtaining food and water for Little Bird. Wet bread, while unhealthy, should do until he can obtain some crickets or liver. Dog food will do if he can find any on base. It should be simple to scout the storage units for any dog food and surely going into town will provide a pet shop where he can find some otherwise. He’ll need to move quickly though: its been an unknown amount of time since Little Bird fed and they’re likely hungry.

 

As Hanzo opens his door he nearly walks straight into McCree, who’s hand is raised to knock on the door. They both stop short, staring awkwardly at one another, before McCree smirks and raises a loaf of bread from under his arm in offering, “For your little friend.

 

Hanzo, startled by the apparent kindness, stares at the loaf of bread for a moment before meeting McCree’s eyes, both of them staring at the other with raised eyebrows. Hanzo hesitates for a moment before stepping back into the room, gesturing to allow McCree in, who struts in like he belongs there. Hanzo resists the urge to snort and takes the few short steps over to the drawers where Little Bird is being kept. He deftly lifts Little Bird out of the drawer and moves to sit on the bed, as McCree strolls behind him while grinning wildly at the sight of Little Bird.

 

“Never took you for an animal lover,” McCree drawls. Hanzo is immediately annoyed but stamps down on the instinct to snap back.

 

“The other nestlings were dead,” Hanzo simply states, “Likely their mother either abandoned the nest or perished herself.” He gestures towards the bread under McCree’s arm and he hands it over. Hanzo opens it with one hand, the other cradling Little Bird close to his chest.

 

“You seem more the sort to leave it there to die,” McCree remarks. Hanzo pauses briefly in unwrapping the bread to process the comment, and continues. It's not the worst of the comments he’s faced here at Watchpoint and McCree did him a favor, so there's no sense over snapping at a warranted comment.

 

“I will need some water,” Hanzo says instead, “Bring me some from the bathroom if you insist on being here.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

Hanzo works on tearing a slice of the bread into smaller pieces, decidedly not brooding over the comment McCree had made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally an excuse for gratuitous fluff as realistically as I can portray it. And admit it the thought of Hanzo caring for a baby bird warms your heart. 
> 
> Chapter title from Emily Dickinson's "Hope is a thing with feathers" also known as "254"


	2. And sings the tune without the words and never stops at all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feeding Little Bird

Little Bird is a gaping bird, meaning that they don’t eat food regurgitated from their mother. Hanzo can tell by the way Little Bird, well, gapes, and by the yellow color of the inside and outside of their beak. That makes things easier: it means Little Bird can eat cat or dog food once he gets his hands on some. McCree watches from the side, having brought the water earlier and made himself at home in Hanzo’s room. Hanzo debated only for a split second as to whether or not to kick McCree out. It seemed better to allow the man to watch then deal with the fuss of trying to out-stubborn him. He seemed surprised by the lack of resistance and a part of Hanzo took pleasure in that surprise- a small petty part of him, but a part none the less.

 

Hanzo places one hand over Little Bird’s back, keeping them vertical. With his other hand, he gently taps them on the beak, signaling that it’s feeding time. Immediately, Little Bird begins gaping their mouth open and Hanzo can’t help the low chuckle that escapes him. Hanzo then wets the bread in the water before grinding it between his fingers into a mush. After that, he gently drops the wet bread down Little Bird’s throat, careful to do so slowly and gently.

 

It becomes methodical then, this gentle caring for Little Bird. It's only tasks are supporting their back and holding them gently as they gobble down bread. He becomes focused only on the care for Little Bird and, while he is too good at what he does to forget McCree’s presence, Hanzo is able to ignore him better, put him to the back of his mind and focus solely Little Bird. It’s this focus and the feel of Little Bird in his hands that brings a smile to Hanzo’s face. And it’s this smile that brings Jesse McCree to a full stop.

 

It’s hard to see a man as a demon when he smiles so sweetly at baby birds.

 

The silence is companionable after that. Well, atleast until McCree can no longer resist the urge to ask what’s been on his mind this whole time.

 “How’d you become such an old pro at this?”

 

Little Bird stops gaping for food then so Hanzo knows they’re full. He gently cradles Little Bird in his palms as he wonders how to answer. In the back of his mind he can hear Genji lecturing him, like a child, “Hanzo, If you are to commit to this path you must commit to your comrades as well: talk to them and built a rapport with them.” Well... that's how Hanzo took it to mean. What Genji had actually said was, “Stop being a stick in the mud and talk to the others so they don’t think you’re going to murder them in their sleep.”

 

Hanzo sighs and brushes his finger delicately over Little Bird’s crown. Their skin is paper thin at this age: pink-brown splotched, wrinkled, and frankly, quite ugly. He could easily snap Little Bird’s neck with two fingers if he wished.

 

“I have always had a fondness for animals.” he states simply, feeling little motivation to explain further than that.

 

“And what started that?”

 

Little Bird is falling asleep in his palm, Hanzo can see their veins through their skin, “That is none of your concern.”

 

McCree raises his hands, palms out, “No need to get salty- anyway, now that the little one is fed, what’re you gonna do with em?”

 

Hanzo looks up at this, meeting McCree’s eyes, “It is unlikely that it will live through the night. I merely wished to give it comfort before it passed.”

 

McCree’s eyes widen slightly at that, and he says, taken aback, “All that work just for them to die? Shame. Why bother then?”

 

Hanzo bristles at this, his shoulders raising slightly and his eyes narrowing before he forces himself to relax, “I would wish the same for me. It is only right to provide that for others.” His voice is brisk.

 

A strange gleam enters McCree’s eyes at that, but Hanzo cannot decipher it. It looks like it could be respect, but that cannot be right. “Well, as I was sayin’ before this mess, you’ve been missing from supper the past few nights, and the others are back from their mission, so you oughta join us tonight.”

 

Hanzo hesitates for a brief moment before nodding his head and saying, “Very well.” He stands slowly then, careful not to jostle Little Bird as he moves and walks over to the drawer where Little Bird will be spending the night. He gently tucks Little Bird in the fabric of the Gi, careful to ensure that they are surrounded by the fabric but not covered.

 

He turns back to face McCree, who’s staring at him with an odd expression on his face. His face smooths out when he sees Hanzo looking, but it’s too late, as Hanzo has already seen it. Together, they walk side by side to dinner.

 

Which turns out to be an awkward affair.

 

Lucio, Hana, and Lena seemed to be in good spirits when Hanzo first sees them, before they spot him, that is. They’re chatting away about their mission with Reinhardt and Angela. Genji and Zenyatta converse quietly with themselves while Winston tinkers with a some sort of gadget on hand. Zarya and Torbjörn are still off on their on their own mission and various other staff members and agents mill about the cafeteria. There’s an obvious distinction here between staff members and agents and again between agents and what are called elite agents. It baffles Hanzo slightly to see such a divide in an organization dedicated to fighting for justice and equality, but that is just human and Omnic nature, he supposes.

 

As he approaches the table where the “elite” agents reside, the other tables fall silent before picking up again in hushed whispers. In response, Hanzo’s face goes blank and he stands a little straighter. As an assassin, being stared at so intently goes against his very nature. He is meant to be unseen, unnoticed not...this.

 

When the other agents spot him they go similarly quiet as the others had, but their attempt to normalize their conversation after goes a little smoother. However, their mannerisms are stiffer and their eyes all drift to him as though he were a rabid animal that one needs to keep an eye on. The only ones not disquieted by his presence are Genji and Zenyatta who both greet him warmly before returning to their quiet conversation.  

 

McCree slips easily into the group, sitting at the edge of the table with an open spot across from him that Hanzo takes. He easily jokes with Hana and Lucio and gives warm smiles to the others when they meet his gaze. Hanzo doesn’t know how he does it, so easily and effortlessly ignore tension and cutting through it as if he cut it with a knife. McCree’s efforts to talk and joke everyone into a state of lowered tension works, to an extent, but the difference is easy to spot.

 

Hanzo finds he has no appetite. He is no stranger to eating in tense environments - his years as Shimada heir have him well trained in that art- but he is older now, tired, and simply wishes for peace while he eats. The tension twists at his stomach and chest and shows on his face as utter blankness. He, of course, is sure to eat an acceptable amount of food and politely excuse himself when possible.

 

He returns to his quarters with little fanfare. He stands over the drawer where Little Bird now sleeps and watches them breathe and twitch in their sleep. It would be so easy to end their life here and now, so easy to end this life before him. But he doesn’t. Hanzo simply watches for long moments and thinks, longingly, on a past where his brother was only flesh and blood and green hair. Where their mother sang sweet songs. Before he was set to be groomed as heir to the Shimada clan. Younger and younger still he imagines himself, lost in old happiness. There the first bird he ever saved, there the first time he went to a festival with Genji, there the day Genji came home from the hospital pink and mewling.

  
Hanzo watches Little Bird sleep and remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Emily Dickenson's "Hope is a thing with feathers" 
> 
> Short chapter- sorry about that! But it seemed like a good place to stop. 
> 
> And holy guacamole! The response to this has been a little intimidating! Thank you all so much- it means the world to me that so many of you like this fic!


	3. And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard And sore must be the storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shopping with McCree

Little Bird lives through the night. And the next night too. It seems, Hanzo muses, that Little Bird will be with them for a while. So on the third day, Hanzo heads into town to visit a local pet shop and bring home some actual food for Little Bird, instead of the wet bread that he’s been feeding them.

 

It takes about twenty-five minutes to reach town from Watchpoint. McCree tags along, claiming his own knowledge of Spanish will be of use and Hanzo can find no fault in this considering their proximity to Spain. When first entering  their vehicle, Hanzo had had his doubts- assuming McCree would talk nonsense the whole trip. Instead the drive is relatively quiet and peaceful, beyond the occasional comment. Unlike dinner two nights ago, this silence is almost... nice. Hanzo finds himself glancing at McCree now and then, studying him. Trying to figure out what makes the man tick.

 

They reach town and park their vehicle, locking it on the way out. Despite the advancements of civilization and technology over the years, this particular town in Gibraltar has remained relatively small. Old fashioned signs intermingle with holographs and hard-light projections, and land vehicles are just as common as hover-vehicles. Omnic presence isn’t particularly strong here, but it is felt as Omnic and human alike walk the streets, each person heading to their own destination.

 

It’s a colorful town, with brightly colored flags hang from windows and bright signs boasting wares littering shop views. Hanzo and McCree walk along the streets, Hanzo with more focus than McCree, as McCree takes the time to gaze into shop windows and mutter about good deals or outrageous prices in turns.  At one point McCree stops dead in his tracks and Hanzo nearly walks away without him before noticing and turning around. And there McCree is, staring into an old antique store like it personally hung the moon. Hanzo, annoyed, nearly does walk away, on purpose this time, as there’s only so long Little Bird can go without being fed after all, but something about McCree’s stare stops him. Something familiar to it that he can’t place. Hanzo follows McCree’s gaze and nearly chuckles at what he sees: an old antique gun not entirely unlike Peacemaker.

 

Then his eyes follow along to the price tag and he winces a little on McCree’s behalf. Not unreasonably high for an old piece like that, but still higher than what Hanzo knows McCree is willing to spend. The man’s as frugal as they come. With a sigh, McCree pulls his gaze away from the antique gun and gives Hanzo a half smile, looking a little like a kicked puppy.

 

Hanzo always had a weakness for small animals.

 

With a little more color in his cheeks then before, Hanzo turns around and resumes walking towards the nearest pet store, McCree trailing along side him. Looking for a distraction from the warmth in his face, Hanzo says, “You enjoy antiques?”

 

McCree appears slightly startled at the interest Hanzo is showing, but responds quickly enough, “My Ma got me in the habit, used to say that they don’t make things the way they used to what with Hard-light technology and such. She’s the one who taught me to shoot actually.”

 

Hanzo keeps his face forward but his eyes are on McCree: he has a wistful look on his face, caught between sorrow and happiness at the memories he’s seeing in his mind’s eye. Hanzo understands better than he’d care to admit and he muses over the similarities between the two of them. “My mother taught me to shoot as well,” Hanzo offers kindly.

 

McCree turns to face him, “Really?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested.

 

The genuine curiosity in his tone encourages Hanzo to continue, “Yes, father did not approve. He believed that using such an archaic weapon would only hinder me. He wished for me to use a gun instead. Mother insisted, saying that it would teach me discipline,” Hanzo smiles at the memory, “In truth she simply wished to pass down the technique to me. We spent many days practicing together.”

 

There’s silence for a few moments, comfortable and calm. Perhaps a little sad as the two men think on times long past. Then, “What was she like, your Ma?” McCree breaks the silence.

 

Hanzo looks to McCree then, turning his head as he ponders how to answer. “Kind but stubborn. Stoic as well, and with high expectations for myself and Genji. She...” Hanzo pauses, wondering how to phrase what he wishes to say, “She believed we could do better than the Shimada clan had to offer and often encouraged us in our hobbies and outside interests.” Feeling slightly vulnerable on the topic, Hanzo shoots back to McCree, “And yours?”

 

“Loud,” McCree immediately states, “not in volume but in personality. She’s a vibrant person, always says what’s on her mind and refuses to bend to outside whims, especially a man’s.” he says in good humor. “We were poor as hell growing up, but she taught me not to see myself as any less for it. Didn’t sink in until later though- I was angry as hell about our circumstances and wanted to change them by any means possible. Ended up joining Deadlock, thinking I could strike it rich. Boy, was she pissed.” He chuckles at the memory.

 

They fall to silence once more, comfortable and content. A few more moments of this and they see a sign advertising a pet store. McCree pulls open the door and gestures for Hanzo to enter first, exaggerating his hand gesture with a cheeky smile. Hanzo, chuckles and shakes his head, entering the store with McCree behind him. Hanzo make a beeline towards the pet food section, reading over labels and determining the best food for Little Bird, eventually settling on several cans of grain-free cat food. McCree, when Hanzo looks for him, is cooing over a ball python in a glass container.

 

Hanzo walks over to him, listening in as McCree murmurs to the snake, “Aren’t you a handsome fella?” The snake ‘bleps’ at him, sticking out their tongue and curling into a content ball. McCree puts his fingers on the glass, not tapping in order to not disturb the snake, but wishing to touch all the same.

 

From the corner of his eye, Hanzo spots a tub of some sort and makes his way towards it. Within it are tubs of crickets, individually packaged by the several dozen, chirping merrily and unaware of their fate. Hanzo grabs one for Little Bird and makes his way back over to McCree, who’s now making eyes at an iguana.

 

McCree, spotting him, looks slightly disappointed as he asks, “We done here?”

 

Hanzo hesitates for a brief moment then shakes his head no, “We have time to look around,” he says. McCree brightens up and makes his way towards the chameleons. Oohing at their curled tails. Hanzo shakes his head in amusement, a smile curling at his lips.

 

Eventually, they do make their way to the counter, Hanzo paying for the canned food and crickets. McCree looks at the cat food a little oddly for a moment before asking, “You’re gonna feed the bird cat food?”

 

Hanzo nods, explaining as they exit the store, “It is high in protein and full of water to keep them hydrated. Wet bread staves off hunger but does not nourish. It is important for Little Bird to have a high amount of protein in their diet.”

 

McCree snorts and at Hanzo’s raised eyebrow he iterates, “‘Little Bird’?”

 

Hanzo’s ears turn pink.

 

At Watchpoint, McCree and Hanzo walk side by side on the way to Hanzo’s room, Hanzo with a tub of crickets out in preparation of feeding Little Bird. This was his mistake, as luck is never on Hanzo’s side and he should have known better.

  
The two of them run into Lucio and Hana, the two chatting excitedly about some video game or the other, when they look up and spot Hanzo and McCree walking together, Hanzo with a tub of crickets in hand.

 

“What’s with the bugs, my man?” Lucio asks as they get closer.

 

McCree smirks a little and asks, “Yeah, Hanzo, what’s with the bugs?”

 

Hana strides forward and pokes the container, which Hanzo moves out of her reach slightly. He glares at McCree whose smirk grows wider. “They are for me.” Hanzo says, raising his chin slightly.

 

“Live crickets? Gross!” Hana exclaims, sticking out her tongue.

 

Lucio raises an eyebrow, “We eat içás back home but I’ve never heard of eating live crickets before.” There’s a challenge in his gaze.

 

With a straight face and staring right at Lucio, Hanzo opens the container and plucks out a cricket, swiftly replacing the lid. Without hesitation he pops the cricket in his mouth and chews.

 

It’s crunchy. And squishy at the same time.

 

Hanzo has eaten insects before- having traveled the world and experienced many different cultures- however, usually they’re deep fried, or in a stir fry or even covered in chocolate. Most importantly, they are not alive. Hanzo maintains a straight face as he chews and swallows the crickets, ignoring McCree stuffing his fist into his mouth to prevent himself from laughing while Lucio and Hana both make slightly disgusted faces.

 

“Eeeew,” Hana says immediately, “Not in front of me!”

 

Lucio raises his hands up and replies, “Man, you are a badass.”

 

McCree is still giggling and snorting into his fist.

 

“If you’re gonna be gross, I’m leaving,” Hana says, striding away. Lucio shoots a wide grin towards Hanzo and McCree before rushing to catch up to her. Hanzo begins making his way once more to his room with McCree moseying up beside him, a shit-eating grin on his face.

 

“Ya couldn’t just tell ‘em you’re keeping Little Bird fat and happy?” McCree drawls.

  
“Shut up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in as many days? Scandalous! 
> 
> Thank you again everyone for all your comments and Kudos! It means the world to me that you guys enjoy this fic so much! 
> 
> and a very special thank you to infinite-atomosphere for drawing a peace of artwork for this fic! [Here](http://infinite-atmosphere.tumblr.com/post/148560598981/and-its-this-smile-that-brings-jesse-mccree-to-a)
> 
>  
> 
> And a second special thank you to the McHanzo discord for letting me spout my ramblings and throwing ideas back and forth with me!


	4. That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do it for the vine, Hanzo

“Come on Hanzo, do it for the vine!” 

 

“It still has dirt on it.” 

 

“Pleeeeease?” 

 

A long suffering sigh escapes Hanzo as he stares at the worm wiggling in front of his face. McCree is laughing at him from the couch. Several agents are staring. Hana and Lucio have identical puppy-eyes as they look at him. Hana has her phone up and ready to record him for her vine. 

 

“Fine.” 

 

He’s dug his hole and now he must bury himself in it, it seems. Plus, the looks of delight on their faces warms his heart as he fights a smile at their whooping. Hana fiddles with her phone, obviously now recording.

 

“This man will eat an-y-thing! Look at this worm!” 

 

Lucio shoves the worm in front of the camera. It wiggles. 

 

“Look at this man!” 

 

The camera focuses on Hanzo. Hanzo replies with a scowl. Lucio tosses the wiggling worm at Hanzo and he catches it in his mouth and chews quickly.Immediately, Hana turn the camera so it faces her and Lucio as they let out identical, “oooooh shiiiiiiiiit!” The worm itself is soft and gooey- his teeth stick together slightly as he chews and swallows as soon as possible. 

 

McCree is definitely laughing as are several other agents. Genji in particular is laughing rather uproariously. Lucio claps Hanzo on the shoulder with a wide grin and Hana is looking at her phone and giggling as she types rapidly with her two thumbs. He sees Genji collect some money from some other agents, who are all grinning. Hanzo shakes his head in amusement, a smile curling at his lips. He looks up and Hana’s camera is pointing at him, obviously having been taking pictures. He scowls at her.

 

“That won’t work on me, grumpy pants! I’ve seen your bug-eating side and I’ve seen you smile! You don’t scare me!” 

 

Genji lets out a slightly hysterical giggle as he senses what’s to come. Hanzo, seeing the challenge, raises his eyebrow, a predatory smirk curling upon his lips. Hana immediately looks nervous, but she raises her chin, defiant. Lucio looks back and forth between them and throws his hands up saying, “I’m outta this mess!” before plopping himself on the couch next to McCree. 

 

Hanzo shifts, putting his weight on the balls of his feet. Hana bends her knees slightly, angling her body away from Hanzo. A few tense moments of silence pass between them and then, as one, they spring into action. Hana running to the door, laughing, with Hanzo dogging her heels, a wide grin on his face. The agents that were standing around watching the proceedings before now jump out of the way, some of them laughing at their antics. Hana, while fit, is not trained the way Hanzo is, so he swiftly catches up to her and, in a truly acrobatic maneuver, has her on the ground in a headlock. 

 

“Submit!”

 

“Never! Death before dishonor!” 

 

He pokes her in the side, Hana lets out a squeal, then freezes. Hanzo, sensing blood in the water, immediately pokes her in the side again. Hana lets out another peal of laughter. 

 

“I submit! I submit! You’re the scariest of them all!” 

 

“Good. Don’t forget it.” 

 

Hanzo releases her from the headlock and stands up, offering her a hand. Smiling widely, Hana grabs the pro-offered hand and he helps her up. In a swift movement she was in his space and throwing her arms around his neck in a hug. Hanzo freezes slightly, arms raised but not quite touching her, before relaxing and returning the embrace. 

 

“You’re a good guy, Hanzo.” 

 

Hanzo snorts, disbelieving, but doesn’t say anything. Hana breaks away and bounds over to Lucio, pulling him up from the couch and dragging him off on some adventure. Hanzo shakes his head in amusement as he makes his way to McCree on the couch. He looks to McCree and notices that the man has an oddly soft smile on his face. Hanzo raises an eyebrow at him and McCree just grins wider, patting the empty space next to him. Hanzo rolls his eyes and sits on the opposite end of the couch deliberately, to which McCree pouts a little. The air in the room is relaxed and Hanzo wonders at the change. Normally the room is stiff as stone when he walks in. Perhaps they’re simply ignoring his presence?  

 

McCree pokes his arm and Hanzo turns his head, questioning.

 

“Quit broodin’.” 

 

“I do not brood.” 

 

“You do, brother.” Genji plops himself down in between McCree and Hanzo and grabs for the remote to the television. Hanzo scowls at him.

 

“I do not!” 

 

“Do you think ‘I Fell in Love with an Omnic’ is on? I missed last week’s episode.” 

 

Genji begins flipping through the channels and Hanzo huffs out a laugh, “You still watch that trash?”

 

“The stories are very complex! Two weeks ago Marigold found out that Lillian was actually her-”

 

“Long lost twin sister, yes?” Hanzo interrupts, amusement coloring his voice.

 

Genji’s visor brightens, “See, I knew you watched this show!”

 

“One does not need to watch a show to see a familiar pattern showing. They’re all the same.” 

 

“Wouldn’t you haf’ta watch the show to see the pattern?” McCree chimes in, shit-eating grin on his face. Hanzo throws a scowl his way while Genji nods. 

 

Huffing, Hanzo turns his head to the side, crossing his arms. That is, at least until Genji switches to the rerun episode of ‘I Fell in Love with an Omnic’. His interest piqued, Hanzo turns back to the screen, obviously absorbed and body once more relaxed. Some in the room plop around the screen and begin chatting about the show, while others groan and leave. Hanzo gets caught up in a debate with someone who had never talked to him before about whether Melinda belonged with Lillian or Gabriel. (“Lillian is obviously the better suitor here.”) It’s...nice. Hanzo finds himself relaxing into the couch, his shoulder brushing up against Genji’s and surrounded by people all watching the same silly show. He finds himself laughing freely. He doesn’t notice McCree watching him as he laughs,  nor the slight flush to his face. Genj, however, does, and mentally starts setting up a betting pool. 

 

This is almost as good as ‘I Fell in Love with an Omnic’. 

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to AceFromOuterSpace and hasee500 for being my Betas! You two are the best!
> 
> Another special thanks to the McHanzo discord for letting me bounce around ideas. You guys are a blast!


End file.
